


Getting Jobs Done

by Katey



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: jim_and_bones, Gen, M/M, Mirrorverse, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katey/pseuds/Katey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>That was not how it was supposed to be. Not at all.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Just a bang and a smile and he would move on.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Jobs Done

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this picture post](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/870247.html) over at [jim_and_bones](http://jim-and-bones.livejournal.com/). (Comm is f-locked, requiring membership to view it.) I'm usually not a fan of mirrorverse... But it was so tempting. ;)  
> Extended version. 
> 
> Unbeta'd.

** Getting Jobs Done - At Any Risk **

 

That was not how it was supposed to be. Not at all.

 

They could try to fool anyone but him. He’d simply worked in this field for too long, saw too many people come (eager and cheerful and oh so _excited_ ) and go (battered and bruised and clearly on the wrong end of a gun in the end). Had had his share of ‘helping’ people go as well as his own bruises along the way. Kept his hair short so no one could grip it and smash him into the ground with ease. Blended into crowds with clothes that weren’t even close to his style, but a guarantee for inconspicuousness. Was cautious and wary and never above paranoid glances over his own shoulder.

So when they told (more like _ordered_ ) him to come to the parking lot and wait behind the most pristine and pretentious trucks he’d ever seen? He went there. He packed his guns and a knife or two, steady hands lingering over his beloved altered med kit just for a few heartbeats before he packed an extra syringe. You never know these days.

 

He went there and saved the questions for later, as always, waiting patiently for the day they’d decide to dodge or lie to him. Waiting for the day to end yet another business, to walk away from blistering heat and torn metal, from bodies and parts of them, from people he once knew but who clearly never knew him to the core. Waiting for the right time to come, for the time when there would be no need for further questions, no need for answers, no need for obedience, not even need to be above it all in the end.

Just a bang and a smile and he would move on.

 

But given all this, his first thought at the moment approaching footsteps turned into a guy walking purposefully in his direction wasn’t the expected ‘ _Weak points and extra gear here and there_ ’ or ‘ _How can I get him down in less than 5 seconds?_ ’ or even ‘ _Too young to end in a body bag, but they don’t pay me for mourning the reckless_. No. His exact thoughts walked the fine line between ‘ _You gotta be KIDDIN’ me_ ’ and ‘ _You gotta be FUCKIN’ KIDDIN’ me!!!_ ’ with a hint of ‘ _That’s where modern fashion sense gets you – you match with trucks, down to the shoes_ ’.

And judging by the little growing smirk on his opponent’s painfully handsome face he might have said that out loud.

 

They shared an acknowledging nod from a few feets distance, not bothering with outstretched hands and open vulnerability.

“Dr. McCoy. I’m Jim Kirk. And whatever they told you about the reason for our little meeting here – they’re lying,” he seemed to reconsider his own words for a brief moment. “No, not really lying. More like ... they don’t know the truth.” A little, confusingly honest smile lit up the piercing blue eyes that silvery-blue suit was made for. “We could wait for you to do it in your own pace, but frankly, as much as I admire your way of work, there’s not much time left. Join us, get this done. Move on. There are bigger fish outside that pond and you know it.”

He folded his arms in front of his chest, hands lingering next to hidden pockets, and gave Mr. Blue-and-Blond a quick once-over before he asked the only question that mattered to him. “Who’s ‘we’?”

 

Jim Kirk took a measured step towards him, leaning in conspiratorial and all but whispered a word that made Leonard’s focus and alert go wide and sharp.

_“Enterprise.”_

 

That was not how it was supposed to be.

It was _better_.


End file.
